


As Much As Love Asks

by Khiori63



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Artwork "Comfort" by Khiori, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 06:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4424843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khiori63/pseuds/Khiori63
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A relaxing shore leave turns deadly</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Much As Love Asks

           Kirk sank down in the chair and suppressed a yawn. He knew he should be getting some sleep, but the events of the past forty-eight hours had left him so keyed up that when he tried, he found he couldn’t even close his eyes. So he settled instead for keeping a silent vigil over the still figure in the bed nearby, the steady beep, beep of the overhead monitor the only sound in the darkened sickbay. It served as a constant, reassuring reminder Spock was finally out of danger, that he, that _they_ , had beaten the odds once more.

 

            Kirk wearily drew a hand across his face. He was just now beginning to shake off the all-too familiar feelings of dread and fear that had been his ever-present companions the last two days. At least now, armed with McCoy’s reassurance Spock would make a full recovery, Kirk could breathe a little easier and maybe even find brief respite from the worry that was always present but never acknowledged, the constant anxiety that what he shared with this most special being could be torn from him in an instant.

 

            And yet…how did that quote go? “The hottest fire makes the strongest steel.” That was what they had, a bond of life and death forged in the flames of an unexpected pon farr and tempered by the cool, soothing breezes of a human’s love. A bond which forever tied his existence to a skinny, half-breed Vulcan whose gentle, compassionate nature made the difficult times duty often demanded that much easier to bear.

 

            Except for times like these. He hated to admit how much it frightened him when this type of situation arose, when he was faced with the very real possibility he would wake up one morning and Spock wouldn’t be there, would never be there again.

 

            What was worse, it hadn’t even been the job this time.

 

            Kirk fingered the braid on his sleeve. As much as he loved being a starship captain and all the rewards it entailed, there was always the underlying fear that went with it. Not the fear of dying—he had made an uneasy peace with that a long time ago. Rather, it was the fear of losing those most precious to him. Like Bones. And Spock….

 

            He rose and moved to the bed, gazing down at its slumbering occupant. Spock lay on his side facing Kirk, the slow rise and fall of his chest barely visible under the heavy coverlet. His face was as white as the pillow upon which it rested, the silken strands of black hair a sharp contrast to both. Kirk reached down and placed a hand against the tall forehead. The temperature of the skin under his own was once again Vulcan-norm, so unlike the raging heat that had poured off him for the last two days. Spock stirred slightly under his touch before again growing still.

 

            No, it hadn’t been the job, it had been something much more senseless. Shore leave on Risa—four days and nights to spend together, exploring the wilderness, hiking, and making love under the stars. Paradise, in every sense of the word. Until the morning of the second day.

 

            After a leisurely breakfast, they’d decided to take a stroll through the nearby woods, enjoying the warmth of the rising sun and the simple pleasure of each other’s company. Spock, ever the science officer, was slightly ahead of Kirk, his tricorder warbling noisily as he knelt to examine the local flora. He reached down to brush some greenery aside, then suddenly gave a sharp cry and jerked back, one hand clutching his wrist. Kirk was at his side in an instant. He dropped to his knees.

 

            “What happened?”

 

            “Snake bite.”

 

            “Let me see.” Kirk examined the proffered appendage, noting the two small puncture marks that were already beginning to swell. A red alert began to sound. He glanced at Spock.

 

            “Did you get a look at it?”

 

            The Vulcan nodded. “I believe it was a _thamnalophis._ ”           

 

            “Poisonous?”

 

            Another nod.

 

            “Damn it! Give me the tricorder and roll up your sleeve.”

 

            As Spock complied, Kirk quickly unfastened the strap from the device and wound it around the Vulcan’s upper arm, tightening it as much as he could before tying a knot. He sat back on his heels. “I thought there weren’t any harmful species on Risa.”

 

            “There are not. The _thamnalophis_ is native to Arrakis. I can only assume it arrived here on some sort of transport and established itself among the native wildlife.” He was studiously avoiding Kirk’s gaze. The red alert grew louder.

 

            “What is it?”

 

            Spock hesitated, then, “The _thamnalophis’s_ venom contains an extremely toxic agent. If one is to survive, it is vital treatment commence within a relatively short period of time.”

 

            “How short?”

 

            Again the hesitation. “No more than thirty to fifty minutes.”

 

            A small bubble of panic rose. In less than an hour, Spock could be dead. Would be dead if he didn’t get help. Panic threatened to become terror and Kirk clamped down hard on both. If Spock were to survive, he needed his captain calm and in control. He took a deep breath. “We have to get back to the ship. Sit there and keep your arm still. I’ll be right back.”

 

            Spock began to rise. “That is not necessary. I can—”

 

            Kirk pushed him back down. “No, you don’t. The more you move around, the faster the venom’s going to take effect. Stay put. That’s an order.”

 

            He turned and sprinted toward the campsite. Thankfully they hadn’t gone too far and in less than two minutes he was racing back to Spock, communicator in hand, shouting orders as he ran. “ _Enterprise_ _!_ Medical emergency! Contact McCoy and get a team to the transporter room! Beam up on my signal!”

 

            Moments later they were in sickbay, where McCoy was given a quick account of what happened. What followed was a harrowing two days and nights as the doctor and his staff waged a furious battle to combat the poison circulating through Spock’s bloodstream, a battle fraught with setbacks. First, the news Risa sported a population of _thamnalophae_ came as a complete surprise to government officials, which meant not one medical facility on the entire planet had the appropriate anti-venom. Second, the general antitoxin they had onboard proved totally ineffective, although a synthesized version did buy Spock some time. For Kirk, it was nothing short of sheer torture. The fear and dread he’d suppressed on the planet were back full force, except now there was nothing he could do to help, no action he could take, no advice he could give. All he could do was wait. And hope.

 

            Worried, anxious, unable to eat or sleep, Kirk spent hours pacing back and forth outside the trauma room as the medical team worked frantically around the clock to keep their patient alive. Most of that time Spock lay unconscious, although there were a few brief moments of lucidity. Then the dark eyes would open and the lips would form Kirk’s name, although no sound came out. Those silent cries never went unanswered as Kirk was at his side in an instant, soothing and comforting his bondmate until Spock lost all awareness once again. Finally, after several failed tries, McCoy was able to formulate the appropriate agent and the battle was at last won. Still, it was close, so very close.

 

            Kirk sank back down into his chair. He had to admit he certainly could do without these repeat performances in sickbay. Spock would no doubt agree. How much time over the years had he spent right here, watching, waiting, keeping vigil as if his very presence could keep death at bay? And how many times had Spock done the same for him? Too many, he thought, gazing at the pale, gaunt face.

 

            These days, the waiting was even worse. No longer was this just his first officer and best friend. This was his bondmate, the one whom he cherished above all others, the one with whom he intended to spend the rest of his life. Unless and until that day came when chance caught up with them, when they failed to beat the odds.

 

            Of course, he and Spock could stop playing the game, could eliminate those odds by accepting ground assignments in the Fleet on some safe, secure planet. But that was an option neither would consider. The need to explore the universe, to travel among the stars, was too strong for either to dismiss or ignore. All they _could_ do was consider each day they remained together a precious gift, one which Kirk had never, would never take for granted.

 

 

 

            He reached over and took the Vulcan’s hand in both of his, cradling it gently, savoring the feel of the warm flesh against his own. _I love you._

 

Long fingers immediately curled around his, the quick response conveying a poignant message that touched the very depth of Kirk’s soul, for that simple gesture said so much more than all the verbal expressions of love he’d heard all his life. A faint voice echoed through the bond.

 

            _I know._


End file.
